


Stage Fright

by lamardeuse



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-07
Updated: 2010-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 08:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David Parrish is a reluctant porn star; lucky thing Evan Lorne is willing to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stage Fright

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Gay Porn for Girls community on Livejournal.

  
“Okay, David,” Laura Cadman said encouragingly, leaning forward across her desk, “suppose you tell us why you want to be a porn star.”

David Parrish stared at her, his mouth working soundlessly for a few moments, and Laura's smile remained frozen on her face as she contemplated whether or not he'd been dropped on his head as a baby. The guy Katie Brown had insisted was the Next Big Thing wasn't anything like she'd been expecting. Sure, he was hot, if you liked big, gangly, Jimmy Stewart types. Parrish was tall – six two if he was an inch – and he was blond, with broad shoulders and a kind, open face you could easily fall into. He was also more nervous than a sackful of cats at a dog show, and he looked like he might puke any second. In the three minutes he'd been in her office, he'd broken her coffee cup and knocked her desk caddy onto the floor, spilling pens and paperclips everywhere. If he was like this on the set, there was a real risk his costar could lose an important body part.

But Katie had sworn up and down that he had real potential, and Laura wasn't averse to trying something new. Besides, the sweet, goofy types had their appeal, especially when paired with a bad boy. And Katie already had just the bad boy in mind.

“I, um,” Parrish finally managed, staring at his hands, “to be honest with you, I need the money. I'm working on my dissertation, and the grants have dried up. Botany isn't exactly one of the more flashy sciences, so it doesn't – ”

“I'm sorry,” Laura interrupted, “did you say botany?”

Parrish's gaze rose. “Yes, that's the study of – ”

Laura held up a hand. “Yeah, I know what it's the study of, thanks.” This guy was a Ph.D. student in botany? Lord love a duck, some of the guys who appeared before their cameras couldn't _spell _botany.

“I'm sorry,” Parrish murmured. “I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just a little nervous, and I tend to babble when I'm nervous.”

Laura smiled again. “There's nothing to be nervous about,” she said, trying to be reassuring. “Nothing's been decided yet; we're just having a nice little chat. I'm only surprised that someone with your – ah, background – is interested in this line of work, even for the money.”

Parrish shifted in his seat. “Well, the way I see it, this is the quickest way to finance my education. I'm only interested in it for that.”

“O-kay,” Laura said, blowing out a breath. Really, Katie was going to owe her for this one. “Listen, why don't we start with a kind of screen test?” When Parrish's eyes widened, Laura added, “Clothes on, and we'll pay you for your time.”

Parrish did a short fish impersonation before stammering, “W-with whom would I be – ah, pairing?”

Laura smiled. “His name is Evan Lorne. He's one of our bright new lights, just signed to an exclusive contract with GPFG.”

“Oh, yes, I – ah, that is, I've heard of him.” Parrish's cheeks, Laura noted, were ever so slightly pink. It was a good look on him. She wasn't usually big on script ideas, but she started getting some marvelous, evil ideas in her head that she'd have to run by Kate at the earliest opportunity.

“Great,” Laura said, grinning. “Maybe someday people will be saying the same of you.”

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
Evan Lorne was having one of his shittier days. He'd been up too late again last night, and he knew he was going to catch hell from the makeup diva when he reported, and she'd make him stick those cucumbers under his eyes. Fuck, he _hated _that.

“Oh, Evan, there you are.” Evan tensed when he heard the musical lilt of Elizabeth's voice. When Elizabeth got lilty, someone was in trouble, and it was usually him. “I thought your call time was ten.”

“Um, yeah,” Evan said, hanging his leather jacket on the back of his chair and turning to face her. “I went out for a smoke.”

Elizabeth's nose wrinkled slightly. “Didn't you say you quit last week?”

Evan closed his eyes briefly. “I, uh, I had a relapse.”

“Mm-hmm,” Elizabeth said, and the only thing worse than lilty Elizabeth was non-verbal Elizabeth. “Well, never mind; I have someone for you to meet. Katie found him, and we're not one hundred percent sure he's going to work out, so we've decided to do a short screen test with the two of you.”

Evan grinned ferally. Fresh meat; his day was suddenly looking up.

“Clothes on,” Elizabeth said firmly.

Evan's face fell. “What? Why?”

“Because he's never been in front of a camera before, let alone naked. He's pretty nervous.”

Evan sighed. “Great.” The last thing he needed today was some nervous nelly who didn't know his dick from his elbow, or worse, Evan's dick from his elbow. Just because Sheppard and McKay were the Brad and Angelina of this outfit, that didn't mean that Evan should take all the shit jobs. He was about to open his mouth to say as much when he walked around the set backdrop –

– and collided head-on with a big, solid wall.

“Jesus!” Evan exclaimed, arms windmilling as he started to keel over backwards. This was great, this was just perfect, he was going to land flat on his ass, and he _needed _his ass, he was going to lose money if he got it all bruised and gross-looking. He was just beginning to fall when strong hands latched onto his shoulders and hauled him up again, and the next thing he knew, Evan was being cradled close against a warm body, snug and sound.

“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.” Evan looked up into a pair of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, wide with concern. He blinked a couple of times, stupidly, and then realized he was practically reclining in this guy’s arms like some fainting Victorian maiden. Grabbing onto the guy’s shoulders, he hauled himself upright, and whoa, the guy was still really tall.

“Evan Lorne, meet David Parrish,” Elizabeth said, and Evan didn’t have to be looking at her to know she was smirking. Oh, wonderful. This clumsy giraffe was the new guy?

Taking a step back, Evan extended his hand, which was quickly enclosed in a warm, firm grip. “Pleased to meetcha,” Evan said, sliding into his best come-hither smirk.

The guy turned beet red. “It’s a pleasure, really,” he breathed, nodding almost frantically.

Evan turned the grin up another three notches, then watched as a fine sheen of sweat popped out on the guy’s brow. Leaning in, he murmured, “It’s not now. But it will be soon.”

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
David looked in the dressing room mirror and squared his shoulders. “David Parrish, porn star,” he intoned at his reflection. When his reflection promptly turned green, he spun sideways and dropped to his knees, barely lifting the toilet lid in time.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, resting his forehead briefly against the cool porcelain before staggering to his feet and reaching for the bottle of mouthwash. This was going to be a _disaster_.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
“Okay, let's just keep this loose, fellas,” Sam Carter said. The script was a short, simple seduction scene, stopping before things got too hot, since the main goal of the afternoon was to see if this Parrish guy could come across on film. Sure, he was hot, tall and broad-shouldered, with an open, wholesome face, but if Sam had a dime for every handsome guy who'd turned out to be a nothing once the cameras rolled, she could retire to Hawaii.

One thing was certain: if David Parrish had a spark of on-screen sex appeal, Evan Lorne could fan it into the Chicago fire. Signing Lorne to that contract was one of the smartest things Elizabeth had done in a while; the man was sex on legs, and versatile to boot. There were times when Sam thought that the experienced star came across a little too practiced, but that was a minor flaw as far as this business was concerned. Lorne still had enough rough edges to him to appear unpredictable, and it was that quality that appealed to GPFG's target audience.

Today, to keep Parrish as close to his comfort zone as possible, they were going with a tried and true scenario; the classroom seduction. Parrish was a good head taller than Lorne, so some of the mechanics would be a little trickier, but they weren't planning anything complicated. Lorne was to be the naughty college student in for extra lessons with the professor; while the professor's back was turned, Lorne would sneak up behind him and wrap his arms around Parrish from behind, then turn him around and shove him against the desk. Parrish would fall back onto his elbows and Lorne would be on him like a limpet, straddling him and kissing him. A little necking, a little clothed petting, then a fade to black. Boring, but easy enough.

She looked from Parrish to Lorne. Both men were in costume, Lorne in ripped jeans and a black t-shirt that molded to every curve of his rather delicious muscles, and Parrish in a lab coat over a jacket and tie that wardrobe had dug out of the back of some closet or other. Lorne was completely at ease, arms lazily swinging back and forth, while Parrish was sweating so much he looked like he might melt. “Uh,” Sam said, “David, are you gonna make it?”

“Oh, certainly, certainly,” Parrish assured her, though his tense, reed-thin voice did not reassure her in the least. “I know what to do.”

Lorne waggled his eyebrows at her. “Me, too.”

Sam crossed her arms, unconvinced. “Remember, David, you've been thinking about Evan for a long time. You're convinced, though, that a relationship would be unprofessional, so I want to see some reluctance when he first approaches you. Make him work for it.” David nodded nervously, and Sam was dismayed to see his cheeks turn bright pink.

Lorne flipped a hand. “Yeah, he blushed when Kate went over the scenes with him, too. She's been over our motivations and everything, so I think we're good.”

Sam resisted the urge to roll her eyes skyward. Evan was still settling into GPFG's way of doing things. For him, plot in a porn movie was about as useful as tits on a bull, but he'd go along with it as long as he was being paid. “All right, then, let's just see what happens, shall we?”

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
“And – action!”

Lindsey Novak started with a close shot of David Parrish's hand as it held a piece of chalk against a blackboard. She drew back slowly, revealing Parrish's lab coat, then his face. Parrish had a good, strong profile; he looked like he'd stepped right out of a cornfield in the middle of the hailstone and sarsaparilla belt. She just had enough time to think that their Midwestern viewers were going to love him before he sucked in a great lungful of air and sneezed all over her camera lens.

“Cut!”

“Oh, my, I – I'm – ah – ah – ” Lindsey took a quick step back in time to escape another sneeze and nearly stumbled over Lorne's spread legs. He gripped her arm, steadying her, and she shot him a look of thanks.

“I'm so sorry,” Parrish finally managed, reaching into his pocket for a Kleenex. “It's only that – I'm allergic to chalk.”

“You're allergic to chalk?” Lorne asked incredulously. “But you're a botanist, right? How come you haven't died from pollen allergies by now?”

“I'm not allergic to pollen,” Parrish said primly, “only chalk.”

“Okay,” Sam said, passing a hand over her eyes. “From now on, could you please make us aware in advance of any medical conditions that may screw up takes?”

“Yes, certainly. I just didn't think it would affect me this mu-mu-mu_choooo_ – ”

“Evan, sweetheart,” Sam sighed, “would you mind taking away David’s chalk before we have to get Carson in here with an Epipen?”

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
The second take, David mimed writing on the chalkboard. It looked stupid, but at least no one was in danger of dying. Lindsey pulled back, then panned slowly to show Evan sprawled in his chair. Not for the first time, it struck her that he was a pretty, pretty man. The camera didn't just love him, it wanted to hump his leg.

Lorne was sporting his best naughty-boy expression, the one that said _I'm about to fuck with you_. That quickly slid into his _I'm about to fuck you_ look as he pushed himself out of the chair and ambled over to the oblivious Professor. With the lithe grace of a dangerous jungle cat, Lorne slipped up behind him and pressed against his back –

– and Parrish promptly startled and elbowed him in the ribs.

“Cut!” yelled Sam.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
The third time, they almost made it. Lorne had successfully maneuvered Parrish over to the wide oak desk and had shoved him down on it, and now he was straddling him.

“M-Michael,” Parrish stammered – he had cornered the market on stammering (not to mention blushing and trembling) – “I d-don't think you know what you're doing.”

“Oh, you're wrong, Professor,” Evan said, smirking his very best smirk as he lowered his mouth to Parrish's, “I know _exactly _what I'm doing.” While Parrish stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes, Lorne caught Parrish's lower lip between his own and tugged at it gently, soothing it with a teasing brush of his tongue. He pulled back briefly to observe his handiwork with characteristic smugness.

Parrish's eyes closed and he groaned helplessly, then he slid one big hand into Lorne's hair and drew him down, bringing their mouths together with something just short of violence.

Holy shit, thought Lindsey. That hadn't been in the script.

She was close enough to pick up Lorne's brief moment of resistance, as though he expected Sam to end the scene, and then he just kind of...well, melted. Lindsey wasn't sure, because she'd seen Evan cocky, arrogant, and aggressive, but she'd never seen him surrender. That sure as hell seemed to be what was happening, though, because Parrish was still holding him in place with that bear paw of his and Lorne was going right with it, draping over Parrish's long body like a blanket and opening his mouth for Parrish's hungry exploration. And a hungry Parrish was another surprise; he'd been so self-conscious and painfully aware of the camera a minute ago, and now he seemed to have completely forgotten it was there.

They broke apart, panting, Lorne mussed and at a loss for words, another new look for him. And then Lindsey realized his next line, which was supposed to be smartassed, had been completely blown by Parrish's taking over the kiss. Parrish, for his part, didn't seem too worried about it; he looked up at Evan with something approaching worship, then cupped his face tenderly and brushed a thumb across his mouth. Lorne's eyelids drooped, and his lips parted on an indrawn breath.

“You're so beautiful,” Parrish murmured wonderingly, and that wasn't in the script either, but man, it worked for her.

Unfortunately, it didn't work for Lorne. As soon as the words were out of Parrish's mouth, he stiffened and straightened, breaking the contact with Parrish's caressing hand. Green eyes flashing, he turned and glared at Sam.

“Just how much do we have to fuck up a scene before you call 'cut', anyway?” he growled.

Lindsey could hear Sam grit her teeth from across the room. “Just that much,” she snapped. “Cut.”

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

“I wasn't imagining it, was I?”

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers, tearing her gaze away from the now-blank TV screen to look at Sam. “No, you didn't imagine it,” she agreed. “They have great chemistry.”

“And that's also the best performance I've seen so far out of Evan,” Kate Heightmeyer, GPFG's acting coach, added.

“And they're damned pretty together,” Lindsey sighed.

Teyla folded her arms. “Too bad it only lasted forty-five seconds.”

Elizabeth smiled; you could always trust Teyla to look on the bright side. “I think Parrish might respond to more coaching, don't you?”

“I'm sure he would,” Kate said. “I can start working with him tomorrow morning, if you like.”

“In the meantime, we need a new script.” She looked at Teyla. “What do you think?”

Teyla shook her head. “I don't think I'll have the time. I'm working on that new one for John and Rodney, and I can't get them out of my head.”

“Isn't that a Kylie Minogue song?” Laura asked sweetly. Teyla stuck her tongue out at her playfully.

“The problem is finding a script that's right for them,” Sam said. “This one sure as hell wasn't.”

“I, uh – ” Elizabeth turned to Laura, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I might have this idea.”

“For a script?”

Laura practically squirmed in her seat. “I know it’s outside my job description...”

Elizabeth shook her head. “We’ve always been pretty flexible on the job descriptions; you know that.”

Laura flapped a hand. “Well, something kind of clicked with me this morning when I was interviewing Parrish, and it’s clicked even more now that I’ve seen him in action with Lorne. Let me work on it tonight and give you a few pages tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” Elizabeth replied, smiling. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve come up with.”

Laura blew out a breath. “No pressure. Great.”

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
“David, I know you’re in there! Open the door!” Katie’s fist slammed against the door a few more times, the noise reverberating through the halls of David’s apartment building.

“I’m trying to sleep!” David finally shouted back.

“It’s not even nine-thirty! Open the door, David, or I will make a – a nuisance of myself!”

Katie heard the sound of footsteps approaching and deadbolts being thrown before the door opened to reveal her friend. “Dear Lord, anything but a nuisance,” he said dryly. “I’m trembling in terror and disgust.”

“Oh, shut up,” Katie snapped, elbowing past him into his apartment. “What is the matter with you? When Elizabeth came back from the meeting, you were gone! Didn’t I tell you to wait?”

David flopped down onto the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. “In case you haven’t noticed in the eleven years we’ve known one another, I’ve never been terribly good at dealing with rejection.”

Katie threw up her hands. “What rejection? They loved you! They want you back tomorrow! Laura Cadman is writing you your own script!”

David stared at her, and Katie could swear that some of that terror he’d just been talking about was in his eyes. “Wh-what?”

Katie sat down beside him and patted his knee in a sisterly fashion. “They thought you had great chemistry with Evan Lorne. They want you to star in a picture together.”

David blinked at her a few times, and Katie began to get nervous. This was a lot like the time David had been up in front of the class his junior year in high school to do that presentation on prehistoric ferns. He’d managed three sentences before he’d bolted out of the room and puked.

“I – I can’t,” David whispered, face now ashen. “I – he hated me.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Katie said, putting an arm around as much of his back as she could reach, “I’m sure he didn’t hate you. I didn’t see the tape, but everyone said the two of you burned up the screen.”

“I thought we did,” David said morosely, “until I told him he was beautiful.”

Katie frowned. “If it was in the script – ”

“It wasn’t in the script.” David sighed. “I kind of – forgot where I was for a minute.” He stared at his hands. “God, I’m far too old to be a stalker, but that's just what I am, isn't it?”

“What are you talking about?” Katie asked, genuinely perplexed.

David shot her a doe-eyed glance of such abject despair that her heart skipped a beat. “David, sweetheart, what's wrong? Tell me.”

“I lied to you,” he blurted, wringing his hands. “I applied to be a porn star under false pretences.”

Katie stared at him. “You do realize that statement requires an explanation, don't you?”

Groaning, David buried his face in his hands.

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

“Fuck, you're hot. Can I suck you?”

Evan smiled at the twink who had just delivered a line straight out of a porn movie. That was one of the annoying things about twinks, he decided, and why it was best to find another way to keep their mouths occupied. Spreading his hands, he drawled, “Knock yourself out.”

The twink dropped to his knees in a parody of supplicaton and Evan leaned his head back against the wall so he wouldn't have to look at him. It wasn't like he hadn't noticed it was getting harder and harder to summon up the same – uh, enthusiasm – he'd once had for back room blow jobs and quick, dirty fucks. For a while, his reputation as a semi-well-known porn star had gotten him all kinds of action, not that he'd ever been hurting for attention. But lately, while the supply of eager young mouths hadn't abated, his interest in the club scene had been on the wane. Last week he'd found himself wandering around the fine art museum, for Christ's sake, and he hadn't been there since – well. It had been a hell of a long time.

The twink wasn't much on finesse, just got right down to sucking in earnest. Evan stared straight ahead and imagined another mouth on him, one that was broad and full-lipped, imagined sympathetic blue eyes gazing up at him with an intensity that stole his breath.

Gritting his teeth, Evan banished the thought. No. No. No way was he into that clumsy, overgrown farm boy. So what if he kissed like he was taking a piece of your goddamn soul from you and handing it back to you in the next heartbeat? Evan wasn't into mush and flowers and guys telling you you were _beautiful_. Who even said that outside of some chick romance novel? And he didn't like being manhandled; he was a top, goddammit. Anyone who watched his pictures knew that, and just because this guy was big and stronger than he looked and held Evan like he was some kind of fucking treasure, that didn't mean he had to _like _it. Just because his hands were huge and square and you got hard when you realized it was going to take all your strength to push him away, and maybe even then you wouldn't get free –

Groaning, Evan arched his hips, pumped once, twice, and came.

“Jesus!” the twink exclaimed, pulling off and spitting on the floor. “Give a guy a little warning next time, willya?”

Head still resting against the wall, Evan zipped up without looking down. “Let's face it, kid,” he murmured. “There isn't gonna be a next time.”

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

“So let me see if I understand what you're saying,” Katie said slowly. “You don't usually watch porn.”

David nodded. “I know it sounds foolish, but yes.”

“All right. Let's assume that's possible – and you're about the only person I'd believe when they said something like that – but fine, let's assume it. Then you finally see a porn movie a couple of months ago that happens to be starring Evan Lorne.”

David tried not to blush. “Yes.”

“And from this porn movie, of which you have very little experience, you think you're in love with him.”

“Not think. I know.”

“David...” Katie said warningly.

David sighed. “Please don't ask me to explain, because I can't.” What was the point? She was his best friend, understood him as well as anyone, and yet to ask her to understand his obsession with Evan Lorne was too much to ask of even their friendship. Until he'd held him in his arms, he hadn't understood it himself.

“Oh, sweetie,” Katie murmured, her hand on his arm bringing him back to the present. “Listen, you don't know Evan like I do. He's – well, I don't see him falling in love with anyone. I'm afraid you're going to get hurt.”

David ignored the small voice of reason in his head that agreed with her. Shaking his head, he said firmly, “Everyone wants to fall in love. It's just that some of us don't think we deserve it.”

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

“Major Eric Adept and Dr. Devon Perilla,” Elizabeth said slowly, her gaze fixed on the script. Across the desk, Laura resisted the urge to chew her own leg off in anticipation.

“I can change the names if you don’t like them,” Laura blurted. She’d intended to fire off a few pages for Elizabeth’s perusal, but had ended up with a finished rough draft after spending the whole night working on it. This writing thing was _addictive_; she’d started right after supper, and the next time she’d looked at the clock it had been two in the morning. She wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe she was on her fifteenth cup of coffee.

Elizabeth smiled slightly, still not taking her eyes off the script. “The names are fine.”

“Remember, this is just a preliminary draft, and I – ”

Elizabeth did look up then. “Laura, would you rather wait in your office while I read this?”

Laura gripped the arms of the chair. “No, I’m good. I’ll just let you – read.”

Nodding, Elizabeth returned her attention to the script. Laura sat, nails digging into the soft fabric of the chair, while Elizabeth flipped pages. The seconds stretched into minutes stretched into centuries.

“Oh, my,” Elizabeth said under her breath. Every muscle in Laura’s body tensed. “Oh, my.” Laura opened her mouth to ask if that was a good _oh, my_ or a bad one, but then she saw that Elizabeth’s cheeks were stained pink.

Good _oh, my,_ then. Laura’s grip eased on the chair.

After what seemed like an eternity, Elizabeth looked up from the script. “This will definitely work_. If _Parrish can pull it off.”

Laura considered this. “You know, I think he can. There’s something in the way he acts with Evan – there’s more there than meets the eye. That’s what inspired me.” She rubbed at the back of her neck. “What worries me is Evan.”

“He’s a pro.”

“Yeah, but he’s always the top. I don’t think he’s going to take well to having the tables turned on him.”

This time it was Elizabeth’s turn to consider. “Well. I suppose we could find someone else for the role if we had to – but I don’t want to have to. Those boys are just going to have to figure out a way to get along.”

Laura smiled. “Or you’ll make them.”

Elizabeth returned the smile, but hers had a razor edge. “Or I’ll..._persuade _them.”

Sometimes Laura really loved her job; it was good to know that Elizabeth did, too.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
“No. No way.”

“Evan, darling – ”

“Don't try to sweet talk me, Elizabeth. You're trying to fuck with my image, and I won't let you do it.”

Elizabeth rested her elbows on her desk and leaned forward. “And how am I doing that, exactly?”

“This part calls for a bottom. I'm not a bottom. I never have been and I never will be.”

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Never?”

Evan shook his head firmly. “Never, and you know it. That's one of the reasons you hired me.”

Elizabeth cocked her head. “I hired you for many reasons, but I don't recall that being one of them. You appeal to men – and women – as a tough, sexy man. A bottom can be just as tough as a top, and certainly as sexy.”

Evan opened his mouth to argue, but Elizabeth cut him off. “Ultimately, we won't force you to do anything you're not comfortable with. All I ask is that you keep an open mind, and give it a try. Sam is filming the script in sequence since David is inexperienced; she wants him to ease into the character – and the explicit scenes – gradually. You'll have plenty of time to decide if this is something you can do.”

Elizabeth had the great satisfaction of seeing Evan bristle. “It's not that I can't handle it – ”

She treated him to her most professional smile. “Of course you can handle it. That's not in doubt.”

Evan frowned. “Then – ”

Elizabeth stood, ending the meeting right at the point when he was teetering on one foot. “Thank you so much for your input on this project. I want you to feel free to come to me with any of your concerns.”

Evan rubbed at his neck, his thin-lipped smile telling her he knew he was being railroaded but didn't have a damned clue what to do about it. “Yeah. Anytime.”

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

As set designer, Katie usually didn't need to be on set during rehearsals and filming, but Sam had requested she be there as much as possible for 'moral support', and she couldn't turn the director down. Now that she knew David's secret, she worried that her presence would only make him more nervous, but she couldn't exactly tell Sam that.

Prep work on this film had been mercifully brief, since they were reusing the sets and props from Sheppard and McKay's sci-fi series. As a result, Katie had had very little to do, which had given her plenty of time to hold David's hand through the costume fittings and the makeup tests. God knew _that _was a full-time job, for David was now convinced that this was easily the stupidest thing he'd ever done and was one step away from bolting every time Evan Lorne so much as looked his way. Lorne had made it fairly clear that he was displeased with the new script, and was barely tolerating his new co-star; if he wasn't openly hostile toward David, neither was he in any way friendly.

“God, he really does hate me,” David groaned in his dressing room after one particularly rough rehearsal.

“Sweetie, he was acting,” Katie soothed, trying to sound convincing. “It's not necessarily the way he feels about you.” The script was interesting, bringing together a closeted Air Force major used to anonymous couplings and a young scientist who was determined to break through his hard-bitten exterior to the man underneath. It had the potential to be compelling as well as hot, but so far Evan and David hadn't managed to recapture the spark they'd ignited in the screen test. “Eric has to push Devon away at first, because he doesn't know what his motives are. Once he knows Devon's on the level, he'll open up to him.”

“But I'm not on the level!” wailed David, head in his hands. “I'm as much of a creepy stalker as Evan – Eric – thinks I am!”

Katie shook her head. “Stop it. You're not a stalker. Well – ” David lifted his head and stared at her “ – not a _creepy _stalker.”

David ran both hands through his hair. “Oh, God. Please kill me now.”

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
“Okay, this isn't working,” Sam sighed.

Evan leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, trying not to let the surge of triumph show on his face.

“And you,” Sam shot at him, “don't look so smug over there.”

Evan straightened. “Look, what do you want me to do? The guy's not an actor, and he's sure as hell not a porn star.”

Sam's look turned considering. “You've been jonesing for him to fall on his ass as soon as you read that script, haven't you?”

Evan frowned and tried to look sincere. “Of course not! Why would I do that?”

Sam only lifted an eyebrow.

“Fine,” Evan muttered, looking at his hands. “Maybe a little.” His gaze rose to meet hers. “I don't like the script, okay? I don't think it's good for my career.”

Sam regarded him calmly. “How old are you, Evan?”

Evan drew himself up. “Thirty-three.” She knew damn well how old he was.

“Which means you've got, oh, about five years left in your career? Ten, if you're lucky?”

Evan's lip curled. “Yeah. Thanks for the reality check.”

“You thought about what you're going to do when you're not making movies any more?”

“I thought I'd retire to the seaside and paint landscapes,” Evan snapped.

Sam held up her hands. “Yes, you're right, none of my business. But this kid David? He knows what he wants to do, and there's a chance he's not going to get to do it. This movie is maybe his one opportunity to ensure he gets to live his dream.”

Evan resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. “Lots of people have to give up on dreams. That's life.”

Sam stared at him for long enough that he had to stop himself from squirming; it felt like she was trying to see inside his head, and he hated that. “You know if it comes down to him or you, we'll choose you hands down. But I wish you could find it in yourself to be a little more generous toward him.”

Evan scrubbed at his face, feeling like a heel. All right, so she had a point. He had been kind of rotten around the guy, and after all, it wasn't his fault they'd come up with this cockamamie script. “Yeah, okay. What do you want me to do?”

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
“Have you decided, sir?”

“Hm?” David stared up at the waiter, who was hovering politely over him, his look expectant. Frantically, he looked back at the menu, trying to remember what he wanted. “Oh, um, the, uh, the small spinach salad to start, and, um, the – ” oh God, God, _think _“ – the...chicken parmesan?”

“Very good, sir,” the waiter said, prying the menu from his numb fingers and bustling off in the direction of the kitchen.

“You sure that's what you wanted?”

Without the menu to hide behind, David was finally forced to look at his dinner companion. When he did, he still couldn't quite believe it, so he repeated the phrases he'd put on permanent loop in his brain for the past hour. _Evan Lorne asked you to dinner with him. You are not imagining this. Evan Lorne asked you to dinner with him. You are not imagining this._ “Um,” he said intelligently, trying to force words past a dry throat, “it's only that there were...so many good choices.”

Evan nodded, smiling. “I thought you'd like it. This is my favourite restaurant.”

David blinked. “It is?” Frankly, this cozy basement bistro with the rustic decor and the friendly staff was the last place he would have expected to be Evan Lorne's favourite restaurant. He'd imagined him at home in one of those stainless-steel and glass Art Deco martini bars, all flash and cool style. He was glad to be proved wrong.

“What?” Evan was regarding him now, a slight frown creasing his features.

David shook his head. “Nothing. It's – it's a very nice place.”

Evan nodded again, apparently satisfied, and leaned back in his chair. “So. Sam tells me you're a botanist.”

“Yes,” David managed, taking a long drink of ice water in an attempt to steady his nerves.

“Any particular plants you like?”

“I'm partial to ferns,” David admitted. “My dissertation is about them.”

“Yeah? I always liked the look of ferns. They're prehistoric, aren't they?”

David smiled, pleased and surprised. “Yes, they're some of the most ancient forms of plants, dating back to the Devonian period.”

“Cool. I never met a fern expert before.” Evan's smile was truly something that had to be experienced at least once in one's lifetime, and to have it directed at you was nearly overwhelming. David was glad he was sitting.

“You make it sound almost interesting,” David said, smiling back in spite of himself.

“I got a theory for you – it's pretty basic, but I like it. People who find stuff interesting are interesting. People who are bored by everything are boring.”

David tried to swallow and failed. “Most people would find ferns fairly boring.”

“Then they don't know what they're missing, do they?” Evan asked, gaze locked with his.

“N-no, I suppose not.” Mercifully, before David could be transformed into a complete stammering wreck, their appetizers arrived. The salad helped to restore his blood sugar and give him a bit more energy, if not confidence.

“So listen,” Evan said, after the waiter had removed their plates, “I think we should talk about the movie.”

David's stomach flipped, tossing the salad rather unpleasantly. “Yes. I know I'm doing a terrible job, I'm sorry – ”

Suddenly, Evan's hand was wrapped around David's wrist, warm and solid. David stared at it, not quite believing it was there. “Hey, stop that,” Evan said softly. “Look, neither of us has been doing that great a job the last couple of days, all right? At least you've got an excuse – you've never done this before.”

Reluctantly, David raised his gaze to Evan's. “You're right,” he answered softly. “I've never done this before.” He'd never done anything this crazy, this reckless in his entire life, and he couldn't even plead temporary insanity, because the madness had lasted for weeks now, ever since Katie had told him that Evan Lorne worked at her studio, and it was showing no signs of subsiding. He wanted to tell this man the truth, wanted to say _I'm sorry_ and _I know this is wrong_, but there seemed to be no sane way to tell a man you'd fallen in love with him in the span of five seconds of videotape.

Evan's hand was still on his wrist, the thumb caressing his pulse point, making him shiver. “Look, I'm the one who's sorry,” he murmured, the words startling David out of his stupor. “I've been a shit about this, and I've been taking it out on you. These chicks at Gay Porn for Girls – the stuff they want isn't the stuff I'm used to doing, and it's hard for me to trust them. Shep – my friend John Sheppard – is the one who convinced me to sign on with them, and so far I haven't regretted it. I just – it's not you, it's me, okay?”

David tried to speak, but no words would come out. Only when Evan released his wrist did he remember to breathe. “I feel like I should make it up to you,” Evan continued, oblivious to David's inability to form coherent sounds. “So look, let's eat, have some wine, and then I'll take you home and we'll go over the script without everybody gawking at us. What do you say?”

Unfortunately, what was left of David's brain had gone dribbling out his ears the moment he'd heard Evan say _I'll take you home_ in that smoky voice. He summoned enough motor control to nod his head dumbly; luckily, this seemed to be enough for Evan.

“Great,” Evan said. “You'll see. I'll make a porn star out of you yet.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” David breathed, reaching for his wine and downing it in one gulp.

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

Sometimes, Evan knew, he was prone to making really dumb decisions. Inviting David Parrish to his apartment to practice scenes from a porn film had to be right up there with the dumbest of them.

Even after their dinner, which had been a lot more enjoyable than Evan would have imagined it could be, Parrish was still about as relaxed as a virgin's ass. It was like he was holding himself back, trying everything he could to avoid getting into the part.

“No, look,” Evan sighed, rising to his feet and dragging David up with him, “you gotta remember Devon's been watching Eric for a while. He's watched him fuck another guy, even, and he thinks Eric's tired of meaningless sex. He's sure of himself, sure he's got what it takes to be what Eric needs.” Man, he sounded like Heightmeyer.

David shook his head. “I'm sorry, I still can't imagine how that would be possible. How could he be that confident?”

“Because besides being good-looking, he's got brains, and he's a great guy. He thinks he's got the goods to make Eric fall in love with him.”

David looked down, and Evan realized he was still holding Parrish's hand like a dope. He dropped it swiftly. “I don't know how to make someone fall in love with me,” David said softly, so low Evan had to strain to hear.

“Well, maybe 'make' isn't the right word. More like 'help', I guess.”

David looked away. “Some people can do much more than that. Sometimes you take one look at them and you're hopelessly besotted with them.” He took a deep breath. “So I suppose it must be possible.”

“There you go, that's the idea!” Evan slapped him companionably on the arm. “Confidence! That's what you need.” He picked up the script from the coffee table and thumbed through it. “Okay, let’s give this a shot while you’re in the mood. Try from the top of scene three, all right?”

David nodded, then clenched his jaw; Evan could see the muscle leaping under his temple. “Major, I don't think you understand exactly what I'm offering you,” he murmured, voice low and steady. His gaze rose to Evan's and Christ, Evan felt heat kindle in his belly and spread lower. How did a guy who studied ferns manage that kind of intense?

Lines, he had to remember his lines. Taking a step forward, Evan smiled a slow, sexy smile as he spread his hands. “Oh, I know what you're offering, Doc,” he drawled, “because it's the same thing guys have been offering me since I turned sweet sixteen.”

“You're wrong,” David countered. “I'm not like all those other men.”

Evan debated with himself for a split second before taking the next step, since they hadn't graduated to blocking yet in the rehearsals, and he wasn't sure how David would react. Deciding they might as well know now if David could do this, he reached out and palmed David's crotch, just as the script told him to do.

David's lips parted on an indrawn breath, his eyes going wide and startled before slamming shut for a moment, and Evan realized that David was half-hard already. Jesus. Unconsciously, his hand pressed a little more firmly, and he felt David's cock jerk under his fingers.

“You feel just like those other guys to me,” Evan said, ignoring the roughness of his own voice.

With what looked like a great effort of will, David reached for Evan's hand and drew it away, then crowded into his space. “Yes, I want you,” David breathed, hand still clamped to Evan's wrist in a death grip. “I'd hardly be human if I didn't. But that's not all I want.” His gaze locked with Evan's, and Evan was trapped, pinned like a bug, unable to look away. “What's more important is that it's not all you want, either.”

“Oh yeah?” Evan shot back, and shit, his voice had _not _just cracked. “Then what do I want?”

David gazed at him for what felt like a decade, his expression a weird mixture of arousal and sadness, before leaning in and brushing their mouths together, less than a kiss and more than a caress.

“Everything,” he whispered against Evan's lips.

Evan groaned and surged upward, meeting David in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss that left him weak and shaken. Good thing David didn't seem to have the same problem, because then they'd both be on the floor. He had one strong arm wrapped around Evan's back while the other softly cradled his jaw, and Evan wasn't sure which one was doing more to keep him upright. They finally parted as though shocked, practically jumping away from one another.

“Okay,” Evan managed, when he could be sure of his voice, “so that was – pretty good.”

“You think so?” David said, his voice breathy and thin.

“Yeah,” Evan said. “Yeah, it was – a lot better than the rehearsals.”

David nodded almost frantically, and Evan realized David's eyes seemed to be on everything but him. He darted a glance at David's crotch, and wow, David was still hard. “Well. That's. Good, then,” David murmured. “I should go. It's – ” he glanced at his watch “ – nearly ten, and we have to be there early tomorrow.”

“Hey, you – ” Evan cut himself off abruptly when he realized he'd almost offered to take care of David's little problem for him. _More like his big problem_, Evan amended silently, and God, he was really starting to lose it here. It wasn't like he'd never had sex with any of the guys he worked with off the clock, but he sensed that doing the same with this guy would be a disaster. Something told him that David Parrish wasn't the type to do casual.

The fact that he was making a porn film with the guy didn't matter. Evan had never had any problem keeping work and reality separate, and he wasn't about to start now. But he couldn't help wondering if David would be able to draw the line as easily, especially since Evan had essentially invited him to cross it tonight.

He belatedly realized that David was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence. “Uh, you need me to call you a cab?”

David shook his head. “No, I don't live far away. I'll probably walk. Clear my – head.”

Evan bit his lip, determined not to look down again. “Sure. I'll see you at the studio in the morning.”

“Yes. Good night. And – thank you for the – practice.”

After he left, Evan closed the door and softly banged his forehead against it several times.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
Sam leaned back in her chair. Now _this _was what she was talking about. She didn't know what Evan had done, but whatever he'd done had worked, and she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. David had been transformed from stuttering wreck back into the guy she'd seen in that forty-five seconds of screen test, and he and Evan were striking sparks off one another again. The blocking rehearsal for the first couple of scenes went so well that she scheduled the filming for that afternoon, wanting to take advantage of this new development. The first couple of scenes were short, establishing Devon and Eric as characters and setting the stage for their relationship. At the end of scene two, Devon was to watch Eric getting blown by another guy. Later, the scene would be intercut with flashes of Devon blowing Eric, the intention being to make the audience wonder if the fantasy belonged to Devon or Eric – or both of them. Sam knew they weren't ready for _that _scene yet, but the voyeurism scene would be a piece of cake.

By the time everything was ready for the final take, Sam was pleased with what they'd been able to accomplish. “Okay, guys, let's try to get this in one,” she said. “David, please go to your mark; Evan and Terry, you know what to do.” Terry nodded, dropping obediently to his knees and going right for Evan's buttons.

She heard Evan chuckle low in his throat. “You don't waste any time, do you?” When she looked again, Terry already had Evan's cock out and was licking a stripe up the underside. Evan leaned his head back against the puddlejumper mockup and shut his eyes.

“Terry, honey, let Lindsey focus first, will you please?” Sam said sweetly. Around them, the crew chuckled, and Terry drew back, pouting.

“I'm ready,” Lindsey said after a minute, and before Sam could shout, “Action!” Terry had swallowed Evan down with practiced enthusiasm. It wasn't a big deal, since Evan could last as long as anyone, and David was supposed to walk in on them in the middle of it.

Lindsey's camera was trained on the corner where David would appear. At the snap of the clapper, David came out, turned, and stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze riveted to the sight in front of him. Sam watched as his expression cycled through surprise to shock, finally settling on a mixture of hurt and anger.

Wow, this guy was _good._

Lindsey swung the camera back to Terry and Evan, who were definitely enjoying themselves. Terry loved sucking cock, and he was extremely good at it, able to deep-throat even the biggest of their stars. Evan was right up there in the top three, and Terry was taking him easily, bobbing up and down with enthusiasm. Evan still had his eyes closed and Sam noticed he wasn't touching Terry anywhere, his hands resting at his sides, just as she'd directed him to. She wanted to contrast the anonymous sex Major Adept was used to having with the sex he'd have with Doctor Perilla, and this scene would highlight that. For the “fantasy” sequence, there'd be eye contact and soft caresses, every touch between Eric and Devon proclaiming their desire, their connection.

For now, though, Devon Perilla was suffering, both aroused and upset by the scene before him. Lindsey swung the camera to get more of his reaction, then moved back to Evan.

“Okay, Evan,” Sam murmured, giving him the signal to open his eyes. When Evan did, she watched his gaze rise to David's, watched him react with surprise, then smile crookedly.

“I should charge admission,” Evan murmured.

Below him, Terry pulled off. “What?”

Evan didn't look down at him, holding David's gaze instead. “Nothing, kid.” Terry's lips closed around his cock again, and Evan, still watching David, began to fuck Terry's mouth. Every thrust of his hips seemed to be for Devon, seemed to be letting him know in no uncertain terms what he liked, what he wanted. Lindsey reversed the camera again, and this time David was shaking his head slowly, as though Devon refused to believe what Eric was trying to tell him.

This was even better than Sam could have imagined.

Finally, David turned away, seemingly devastated, and left the way he'd come. Lindsey turned the camera back, catching Evan's satisfied smirk as his eyes slid shut again and he thrust one final time into Terry's mouth.

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

Evan didn't know how it had happened, but it was nine o'clock on Thursday night and he was sitting in his apartment watching a rerun of _Everybody Loves Raymond_. Instead of going clubbing, he'd come straight home from work, cooked himself a frozen pizza and sat his ass down in front of the tube.

Maybe he was going nuts. Worse, maybe he was getting old.

This had nothing to do with the scene they'd shot today. It had nothing to do with the fact that Evan couldn't shake the image of David's face frozen in a mask of pain and anguish. Besides, the kid had just been acting. It didn't mean anything.

Only – was he really that good of an actor?

Evan shook his head angrily to clear it, then downed the last of his beer. He never had these problems before he came to work for GPFG. There was no frigging _plot, _no goddamned _character development_ to make him restless and confused. Back then it was simple: tab A, slot B, everybody walked away happy. What was wrong with that?

Yawning, he picked up his plate and empty beer can, then carried them to the kitchen. He was just tired; it had been a long day, after all. Might as well get some sleep, and then he'd be fresh for the weekend –

A loud, insistent knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. Who the hell was that? Striding to the door, he peered through the peephole and felt his gut flip when he recognized the man on the other side.

David was already halfway through the door by the time Evan opened it, and Evan had about a second and a half to register that he looked kind of pissed off before David placed a hand in the middle of his chest and curled his fingers in the material of Evan's t-shirt.

_Holy shit,_ thought Evan, going from totally limp to half-hard in the space of another second and a half. “Uh,” he said intelligently.

“I'd like to rehearse again,” David said, as though he hadn't just barreled into Evan's apartment and wasn't looming over Evan with his hand fisted in Evan's shirt. “If you have some time to spare.”

Evan nodded and tried to swallow around a dry throat. “S-sure. I, uh, I wasn't doin' much.”

David smiled then, and Jesus, Evan knew that smile, that was _his _goddamned smile; David had stolen it from him. It was cocky and feral and _hungry, _and Evan wanted it back right fucking now, but before he could summon the presence of mind to say so, David's hand let go of his shirt, trailed down his chest and reached for his belt.

“Oh,” Evan managed weakly, “that scene, huh?”

David's response was to tug at Evan's belt one-handed until the buckle loosened. Evan looked down, then looked up, and that was a mistake, because David was close, too close, and he must've taken Evan's upturned face as an invitation, because he sank a hand in Evan's hair and kissed him, hard. Evan did not whimper into David's mouth as David pushed his way inside, holding his head captive while his other hand pulled his zipper down and reached inside his jeans.

“Mmmmgggghhh,” Evan said, as David's hot, hot hand molded to his dick. David broke away, forehead pressed to Evan's as he panted. Evan went a little cross-eyed looking at him, but it was worth it, because David looked wrecked, lips swollen, farmboy tan replaced by a deep flush. Christ, he was gorgeous, and Evan found himself running his hands down the curve of David's back, finally settling on his hips. David started at that, his eyes snapping open; he drew back and stared at Evan like he was seeing him for the first time.

“Hey,” Evan said softly, voice strange to his own ears, “you, uh – ”

David silenced him with a hard, rough kiss, then grabbed the bottom of Evan's t-shirt and yanked it up, exposing his belly and chest. Stunned, Evan raised his arms obediently, then stared as David sank almost gracefully to his knees.

Okay. Evan did not have the slightest clue why this was so much hotter than the kid in the club the other night, but it was, it definitely was. David closed his eyes again as he leaned in and nuzzled Evan's cock through his half-unbuttoned jeans, and Evan shuddered when he saw the blissed-out look on his face, like David was getting turned on before they even did anything. Not that Evan wasn't hard as a rock by the time David got down to business and pulled his cock out of his pants; foreplay for him usually consisted of the words, “Wanna fuck?” but now he was seeing the merits of stretching things out a little. David didn't pull his pants down all the way, only opened his jeans enough to get inside and take out Evan's cock. Evan couldn't tear his eyes away as David leaned forward and took his first taste.

Evan heard a groan come from somewhere, but since David had his mouth full it was kind of obvious where it was coming from. He tried to close his eyes, but they kept popping open, because David with a cock in his mouth was incongruous and inexpressibly dirty. That it was Evan's cock made it about a thousand times better; he could not only see and hear it but feel David taking him, feel the strong curl of David's fingers around the base, feel the jolt to his nervous system when David hummed in pleasure, feel the soft rasp of David's tongue over the head and down the underside.

“David, Jesus, _David_,” Evan murmured, surprised he'd said it aloud, surprised he'd wanted to. David looked up at him with those blue, blue eyes, and shit, Evan had totally forgotten that he was supposed to be playing a part here, that they were rehearsing. Only this didn't feel like a rehearsal; this felt real, and Evan had just enough time for it to hit him that maybe this had always been real when David did something that should have been physically impossible with his tongue and Evan grunted and came without warning.

He would have been pissed at himself – his stamina was legendary in the business, he wasn't some horny teenager who went off after a couple of minutes of heavy petting in the back seat of dad's Buick – but he was too busy, what with the top of his head blowing off and all. He tried to look away, but David's gaze had him trapped. Watching David swallow around him and slowly pull off with a last wicked lick was the hottest thing he'd seen in a long time, and he did this for a living.

When a sufficient number of brain cells had reported in for duty, Evan bent down and reached for David's hand, then tugged him to his feet. He bit David's neck near the base and murmured, “So what can I do for you?”

He felt more than heard the soft sigh David made when it stirred the hair on the top of his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I'm – ah, fine.”

Evan pulled back, frowning. “What – ” he began, and then he clued in and looked down. Wow. “You – ” He looked up again, and saw David's cheeks were bright red. Jaw clenching, he took a step back, breaking Evan's hold on him.

“I'll see you in the morning,” David said shortly. “Thank you for the opportunity to rehearse.”

“David, wait – ” Evan began, but he had no idea what to say after that. He had more experience than any ten guys, and yet he had no experience with this._ No really, I think it's hot that you came in your pants just from blowing me_ didn't sound right, and _Don't go_ didn't sound like him.

“Good night,” David murmured, and then he was gone, and Evan was left standing there with his dick hanging out and his mouth half-open, feeling like possibly the biggest moron to have ever walked the earth.

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

Sam Carter was an experienced director of high-quality adult films. She was an artist and a professional, and she always conducted herself with the utmost decorum.

“Uh, Sam,” Kate whispered in her ear, “you think maybe you should call cut?”

Sam shook herself like a wet dog. “Cut!” she yelled.

On the set, Lindsey straightened from where she'd been squatting. “Oh, thank God,” she groaned. “My knees were starting to lock up.”

This was the point at which Sam usually offered praise to her actors and crew for a job well done. Unfortunately, all she could think of to say was _Excuse me for a moment while I go change my panties,_ and that was _not _in keeping with the whole decorum and professionalism angle. “Uh,” she managed finally, clearing her throat before continuing, “gentlemen, that was...”

“Hotter than the hinges of hell?” Lindsey offered, grinning.

Sam nodded jerkily. “That works.” She looked over at David and Evan, who didn't seem to have heard her. They were still frozen in the positions in which they'd ended the scene, gazes locked. David's hands still gripped Evan's hips, and one of Evan's hands was cradling David's cheek. Evan's spent cock lay between them, and as Sam stared, David leaned forward and kissed it, then pressed his face into the hollow of Evan's hipbone. Evan's hand moved to David's hair, stroking it as David mouthed at his skin with a drunken hunger.

“David! Evan!” Sam said sharply, annoyed when her voice came out more as a squeak. “That's a wrap!”

Both men jerked at the sound of their names. David was the first to recover, dragging himself to his feet; Evan leaned back against the wall for a moment, banging the back of his head with a muffled _thunk _before pulling away and zipping himself up.

“Great work,” Sam said, more calmly this time. “Why don't you both take the rest of the day off?”

David nodded mutely; Evan muttered, “Sure, thanks,” and then they were gone.

Lindsey jerked her head in the direction they'd gone. “What do you suppose is happening there?”

“I don't know,” Sam said carefully, “but whatever it is, it's going to sell a million copies.”

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
This time, the door opened right away. David tried to speak, but his mouth was suddenly dry and his throat was tight and his palms itched because God, Evan was even more beautiful than he'd been five hours ago. There was no cockiness in his expression, no leering grin, only a man, eyes wide, gaze direct and unflinching.

“More rehearsal?” Evan asked, though it wasn't quite a question.

David nodded mutely. Slowly, Evan moved aside, inviting him in.

David walked in and turned, backing Evan up against the door and kissing him. Evan's hair was a little damp from a shower and his face was smooth and it suddenly occurred to David that he'd presumed too much. Breaking the kiss with great reluctance, David murmured, “I'm sorry, were you planning to go out?”

Evan frowned slightly. “No, I was planning to stay in.”

“Well, if you're expecting someone, I can certainly...” He gestured feebly toward the door.

Evan stared at him, a mixture of exasperation and wonder on his face. “You know, sometimes I think you might just be the dumbest smart guy I've ever met.”

Oh. _Oh_. David smiled cautiously. “I think it's the company I've been keeping lately,” he murmured, leaning in again and brushing his lips against Evan's. “I have a hard time thinking rationally when I'm near you.”

Evan's eyes closed to slits as his hands slid up David's chest. “You're crazy, you know that?”

David nuzzled Evan's smooth cheek – Evan had shaved for him, for him – then nipped at his ear. “Why?”

“Because guys don't say shit like that to – nnnggg, yeah – to other guys.”

“They don't?” David asked, kissing him again briefly. “What do they say? Would you rather I talk the way they do in porn films?”

“I – ”

David wedged a knee between Evan's legs and pressed their bodies together, then licked a stripe up Evan's jugular. “What would you like to hear?” he whispered. “Tell me, I'll say anything – ”

A rough hand sank into David's hair and tugged him up for a deep, scorching kiss. “Shut up,” Evan growled, his other hand closing around David's cock. “Just shut up.”

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

They went on like that for a week. Every night after work, David would show up at Evan's place and they'd spend a couple of hours 'rehearsing'. It didn't escape Evan that their relationship, if he could call it that, was heating up both on and off the screen as a result. David never asked anything else of him – he didn't ask Evan out to restaurants or to movies, and didn't seem to be pissed that Evan didn't ask him to do any of those things. Sure, after Evan had pinned David to the bed and fucked him last night, they'd ordered Chinese and eaten it in front of the second half of the Lakers game, but Evan just figured that was good manners. You didn't kick a guy out right after sex, especially not really good sex.

Okay, so he'd done that a couple of times in his life. Maybe a few. But that had been a long time ago. At least six months back.

“Evan? Are you with us, darling?”

“Hm? Yeah, sure,” Evan said, nodding at Sam. “Ready, willing and able.”

Lindsey chuckled. “Good man.”

“All right, let's give it a try, shall we? Places, please.” Evan sat in the chair in front of the desk that had been set up as part of Major Adept's quarters on Atlantis. He was making a show of reading something on his laptop screen when Sam yelled, “Roll 'em!”

Evan waited about twenty seconds, then looked up as if responding to the door chime whose sound would be added in editing. He turned and stood, then walked to the door. Offscreen, two stage hands pulled the sliding doors open to reveal David just as Evan waved his hand over the lighted wall panel that served as the Lantean door control.

“Oh, thank God,” Evan breathed, grabbing David by his tac vest and hauling him inside. “I was goin' nuts.”

“It was a perfectly – routine mission,” David managed, a little breathless. “Everything went well.”

“Don't give me that shit.” Evan's hand was fisted in David's vest now, keeping him close. “I got the preliminary report from Captain Snyder.”

David's eyes went round. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What the hell did you think you were doing, wandering off without escort?”

“There was no danger – ”

“Goddammit, that's not your call to make,” Evan snapped. “I sent you with Snyder because he's experienced and he's got a good instinct for spotting danger. You could have – ”

“You were worried about me,” David said softly. He placed a tentative hand on Evan's shoulder. “Eric, I – ”

Evan shrugged off the hand and shoved David back roughly. “You could have jeopardized not only your own life but the lives of the men and women with you.”

David looked stricken for a moment, and Evan wished he wasn't so damned good at that. “Oh. You're right, of course. I'm sorry.”

Evan took a deep breath. “Yeah. I was right. And – ” he looked away “ – I was worried about you.”

“Eric,” David said simply, stepping forward into his arms and kissing him, open-mouthed and hungry. They wrapped their arms around one another, Evan practically climbing him in his effort to get closer, closer, _closer_. They'd talked about this in the rehearsal; this was a pivotal scene, one where their need for one another had to progress beyond the sexual to the next level. Not that they hadn't felt it before this, but for the first time they wouldn't be afraid to show it to one another. They'd kiss for a long while, slowly peeling one another out of their clothes, and then Devon would fuck Eric, pushing inside him, taking him gently and carefully until Eric was begging for it harder, faster, deeper –

Yeah. They hadn't rehearsed this, because Evan wasn't a bottom. Not off-camera, and not on-camera for the last ten years, since he'd been an inexperienced twink. He'd had one too many bad experiences with fly-by-night film companies and guys who hadn't known lube was your friend. Besides, it wasn't something he'd ever been able to get off on, so there hadn't been any point in pursuing it. There was nothing wrong, he told himself, with wanting to be in control, and nothing wrong with saying no to something that didn't work for you.

But this was a job, and for all the craziness, he liked working here, liked the way they took their time with projects and the way they gave a damn about their performers. It was a refreshing change from some of the places he'd worked over the years. So if they wanted him to do this, he could do it. It was just a job, after all, and he was going to be fine with this, especially since he'd fucked David bowlegged last night. He summoned an image to get him going; David with his arms flung wide, legs hiked high, mouth open and gasping out Evan's name. Christ, he was beautiful, and he was nothing like Devon; David was a bottom and he liked it, and Evan was perfectly happy to give it to him.

They stripped one another gradually, one piece at a time. Evan still marvelled at the GPFG way of doing things; every other job he'd done, the undressing had been pretty much over in about five seconds, because you showed a bit of skin, then they cut and you started up again buck naked. This was definitely more realistic, and a lot better for getting in the mood. For the first time since he'd started in this business, Evan found himself forgetting about the camera as they kissed and caressed each other.

When they were both finally naked, David pushed him onto the bed, and Evan only stiffened for an instant before going with it. No problem, he could do this.

Then David climbed on top of him and murmured in his ear, “I want to fuck you.”

Sweat broke out on Evan's brow, and not the good kind. He knew his next line, but he couldn't make his lips form the words.

Dimly, he could sense all the eyes on him, watching him, and his gut started to twist. Before he could descend into a full-blown panic attack, David pushed himself up on his elbows, taking some of his weight off Evan's body. Evan took that moment to suck in a deep lungful of air and mentally boot himself in the ass.

Then David's fingers stroked through his hair, touched his face, and Evan looked up into his eyes.

“It's all right,” David said softly, too softly for the mikes to pick up, “I could never hurt you. I love you.”

Evan stared up at him. That wasn't Devon's next line.

“Cut,” Sam said wearily. “Evan, you're supposed to be looking at David like you want him desperately, not like he's about to rape you.”

David shut his eyes briefly before shaking his head and shoving himself off and away. Evan said his name, but he was already halfway across the set, on his way to his dressing room.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
“Don't start. Please,” David begged.

“Oh, David,” Katie sighed. “I wasn't going to say a word.” Crossing the room swiftly, she reached out to touch his shoulder. “I just came to see if there was anything you needed.”

“Only one thing,” David murmured, sitting down heavily on the dressing room's small couch. “And I'm finally beginning to wonder if I'm ever going to get it.”

Katie tried to smile. “It's not like you to give up.”

David closed his eyes. “He was afraid of me, Katie. Afraid of...” He trailed off, his cheeks turning pink.

“Afraid of being fucked,” Katie supplied helpfully.

“Katie!”

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” Katie huffed, “have you forgotten where I work? Have you forgotten my best friend happens to be a gay man?” she added, jabbing him in the arm with a finger.

“All right,” David said. “Just – let's not talk about it, please. It's too weird.”

“Fine. I'm not the one you should be talking it over with anyway.”

David shook his head. “I can't.”

“You have to,” Katie insisted. “And while you're at it, it's time you talked with him about some other things, too.”

David stared at her. “When did you get to be so bossy?”

Katie started, surprised. “I am being bossy, aren't I?” she asked, wonderingly. “Is this is what it's like to be a bitch? I've always wanted to try it.”

David couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. Leaning over, he kissed her on the forehead and squeezed her tightly in a one-armed hug. “Don't ever change,” he said.

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

“Haven't seen you around the clubs lately.”

Evan shut his eyes briefly. He didn't think he'd ever been less in the mood to talk to anyone, let alone an airhead like Terry. “That's because I haven't been around the clubs lately,” Evan said, trying not to grit his teeth.

Terry pursed his pretty lips. “Rumor has it you're spending every night with Clark Kent.”

“Don't call him that,” Evan snapped, darting a glance toward David's closed dressing room door. He was well aware that a few of the guys used that nickname behind David’s back, and it pissed Evan off.

“Oh, my.” Terry smirked, drawing back. “I guess that proves the rumor, then.”

“Yeah, and? So the fuck what if I've been spending time with the guy?”

“Well, sweetie, it's just that you're usually never with the same man twice. There's a little betting pool going – I've got three weeks, and the odds on that are astronomical, so if you wouldn't mind drawing it out a little longer, I'd be very grateful.”

“Who's got longer than three weeks?”

Terry stared at him for a moment. “Um. Well.”

Evan's gut clenched. “Nobody.” Christ. Knees suddenly going weak, he leaned against the wall for support. _This is who you are, and everyone remembers it except you._

“You're really stuck on this guy,” Terry murmured, all teasing gone from his voice.

Evan's jaw clenched. “We're just fucking,” he said sharply, pushing himself away from the wall with an effort. “It's strictly for laughs. No big deal.”

Terry didn't answer, and when Evan looked up at him, he saw Terry staring at something off Evan's left shoulder. Evan turned slowly to find David standing in the middle of the hallway, his expression as stricken as Devon's had been.

_God, that was you all along,_ Evan thought, right before David turned on his heel and walked away.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
When the knock sounded at his door, David considered not answering it. It was probably Mr. Sanderson again with one of his petitions. The elderly man was always trying to get the other tenants to sign petitions for some cause or other, and David had seen him around earlier with a new one.

Finally, he sighed and walked to his door to open it; Mr. Sanderson rarely got very many signatures, and David felt obliged to help him as best he could. He pasted on a pleasant smile and swung the door wide –

And stood there frozen with an idiotic smile on his face as Evan Lorne stared back at him.

“Hey,” Evan said.

David forced his lips to move. “How did you know – ”

“Where you live?” Evan rocked on his heels and stuck his hands in his pockets like a guilty ten-year-old. “I might have snuck into Elizabeth's office and taken a look at your file.”

“Nice to know my personal details are on display for everyone's scrutiny,” David muttered, turning away. Behind him, he heard Evan enter and close the door behind him.

“Well, everybody at the studio knows how big your dick is...” Evan began, trailing off when David rounded on him.

“And that you and I are having a 'strictly for laughs' relationship,” he snapped.

“Yeah, I, uh,” Evan murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Sorry you had to hear that.”

“Why? Because I wasn't supposed to know the truth?”

Evan looked up at him sharply. “I don't tell Terry the truth about anything.” He barked a short, harsh laugh. “Hell, I don't tell anybody the truth about anything. Not even myself.”

And just that easily, David found himself falling helplessly in love with Evan all over again. As if drawn by a magnet, he took a step forward. “You're not the only one who's been having a little trouble with the truth.”

Evan watched him warily, silent and unmoving, like an animal poised for flight. David took a deep breath, then plunged ahead. “I didn't come to Gay Porn for Girls because I needed the money.”

Evan's brow furrowed. “What? Then why did you come?”

David spread his hands. “For you.”

Evan blinked. “You – ”

“I didn't – ” David waved a hand vaguely to indicate his various physical charms. “It wasn't simply because I thought you were beautiful, though of course you are.”

Evan's look grew distant, shuttered. “So that's what this is about.” His lip curled. “Okay. This I get.”

David shook his head, confused, and Evan continued. “You saw a few of my movies.”

“One.”

Evan's eyebrows shot up. “Only one? I guess I still got the touch,” he drawled.

“I'm afraid I don't – ”

Evan surprised him then with a thin laugh. “You think you're the first groupie who tried to get into my pants? I have to admit, you get an A plus for effort, Doc. You certainly cooked up an elaborate scheme.”

David shook his head again, this time in an effort to clear it. He was a highly intelligent man, but his intelligence was focused on certain topics, and interpersonal relationships had never been one of them. His experience told him that Evan's behavior was irregular for him; he certainly by all accounts had never had any difficulty having meaningless affairs. And _he _had been the one proclaiming their relationship to be casual. But Evan was also clearly angered by the belief that David only wanted Evan for his considerable charms. David tried to make sense of it in his head, but he was too addled to think properly.

The only option open to him seemed to be full disclosure, even though he had been dreading this moment for weeks. But if he was going to drown, he might as well be pulled under the waves by the truth rather than dragged down by lies and misconceptions. “Friends of mine occasionally have – movie nights,” he began. “I don't usually go, not because I'm particularly prudish but because, to be quite honest, I find porn boring. Most of the men are so pumped up as to be plastic looking, and the sex is formulaic and unconvincing. No offense.” Evan only stared at him stonily; David gulped and continued on. “Well. A couple of months ago, I went to a movie night. I'm still not sure why – I was lonely, I suppose, and I hadn't seen a couple of my friends in a while. I thought I'd visit and catch up, and ignore the porn. And then I saw you.

“I can't remember the name of the movie, but you caught my attention right away, because there was nothing plastic about you. You were real, and you moved with such grace, and you smiled as though you knew something the rest of the world didn't. And then you – I can't remember what was going on in the scene exactly, but it was outdoors, beside a lake – you sat on a dock and looked out over the water, and – I couldn't breathe for a moment, because you looked as lonely as I've ever felt. And suddenly I knew that I would do anything to try to erase that look from your face.”

Evan shook his head. “You expect me to believe you did all of this – just up and decided to become a fucking _porn star _– because of something you thought you saw in my face in a few seconds of a movie?”

David took a step forward before he was halted by Evan's warning glare. “It's the truth,” he said softly.

“You just said you were having trouble with the truth,” Evan snapped.

David risked another step. “Not concerning the way I feel about you. Just the minor details that might cause me to appear – ” he faltered “ – slightly insane.”

Evan snorted. “Yeah. Like telling me you love me.”

David lifted his chin, his gaze unflinching.

Evan's eyes widened. “Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

David took another step; he was close enough now to see the pulse leaping in Evan's throat. “No,” he murmured. “No, I don't think I've ever been more serious in my life.”

“Then you're more than _slightly _insane,” Evan growled, just as David took the final leap and cupped Evan's face in his hands. “Christ, David, you – ” His words were lost in David's kiss, which at first received no response, Evan's jaw clenched under his fingers, his lips stiff and unyielding. David's heart stuttered as he continued to caress him gently, as he tried to get his message across, all to no avail. And then, at the moment before he admitted defeat, he flashed on the memory of their first kiss.

Acting on an instinct he hadn't known he possessed, David wrapped one arm around the small of Evan's back, drawing him in tightly, while the other splayed across the back of Evan's head. Tilting his own head, he held Evan's motionless while he bit down on the tender skin of Evan's throat.

Evan jerked in his arms, and for a horrible moment David was certain he'd lost the gamble. And then Evan jerked again and groaned, and there were fingers in his hair tugging his head up for another kiss, and Evan's mouth was on his, mobile and ravenous and David whimpered and shoved Evan backward until he collided with the back of the couch.

“Bed,” Evan panted, and David practically dragged him across the room to the bedroom door. Evan's hands were already busy on his own clothes, attacking his shirt buttons; David batted them away, earning a hot look from Evan, who nevertheless dropped his hands to his sides. David propped him up against the door and kissed him again, tongue delving deeply as he finished unbuttoning Evan's shirt and pushed it off his shoulders.

Soon, Evan was naked and panting under David's hands, and it was easy to push Evan down gently but firmly onto the bed, where he lay staring up at David. Indulging in a little staring of his own, David spent long moments studying the powerful curves of Evan's body, the arch of his collarbone, the rise of his thigh muscles, the jut of his cock.

“Jesus Christ,” Evan hissed, “I swear, if you don't get down here right now, I'll – ”

Propelled into motion, David got naked as quickly as possible and tumbled on top of Evan, bracing himself above him, feeling his heat even from this distance.

“Closer,” Evan breathed, and David bent his elbows; “Closer,” and he brushed his chest against Evan's; one more “Closer,” and he canted his hips, bringing their cocks together. Cautiously, giving Evan time to say no, he watched Evan's face as he moved his hands to enclose Evan's wrists in a firm grip.

Evan's eyes slammed shut. “Fuck,” he whispered.

David ground his hips against Evan's. “Look at me.”

Evan's eyes opened, the pupils blown, and this time it was David who groaned. “Please believe me,” David murmured, pressing his face to Evan's neck.

“I do,” Evan breathed. “I still think you're crazy, though.”

David couldn't help it; he began to chuckle. “Okay. I can live with that.”

He felt a sharp nip at his earlobe, then Evan's hot breath against his ear. “So you gonna fuck me or what?”

David's response was to rise up, push Evan's wrists into the mattress and wedge his legs apart. “God, you're so fucking big,” Evan growled in his ear. “I never liked guys who were bigger than me.”

David smiled in what he knew had to be an idiotic fashion. “But you like me.”

Evan glared up at him, then smirked. “Yeah, I like you. Doofus.”

David leaned down, brushing their cheeks together. “And you know I'll never hurt you,” he whispered, and he could feel Evan nod soundlessly. Kissing his earlobe softly, David trailed his lips down Evan's neck, then mouthed along his collarbone before drifting down to a nipple. Evan shuddered and cursed as David suckled at one, then the other, holding Evan's straining hands down the whole time. By the time he worked his way down to Evan's cock, Evan was practically incoherent, his compact, muscular body sheened with sweat.

Finally releasing Evan's wrists, David sat up again and reached into his bedside drawer for the lube and condoms he kept there. Evan watched as David flipped the cap and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers, then seemed to let out a breath he'd been holding.

“What's wrong?” David asked, frowning, but Evan only shook his head.

“It's fine, I'm good,” he murmured. “Just – slow, okay?”

David felt something inside him melt at the vulnerability in Evan's expression, and the gift he'd just placed in David's hands. Leaning down, he kissed Evan almost chastely. “As slow as you want,” he promised. “And we can stop anytime – ”

Evan widened his legs, a clear invitation to get the fuck on with it, already, and David sucked in a breath. God. Kissing him again, harder this time, he stroked one hand over Evan's chest while the other reached down and probed gently –

Evan made a sound when David found what he was looking for, and David wasn't entirely sure if it was a good sound, but he figured that Evan would tell him to stop if he needed to. Applying as little pressure as possible, he gradually breached Evan's body with the tip of one finger.

Evan blinked up at the ceiling and gasped, and David's resolve nearly left him. He looked like he was on the proctologist's examining table, for heaven's sake. “Evan, we don't have to – ”

“Keep going,” Evan gritted, and David obeyed, pushing in further, feeling the incredible tightness close around his finger. Had Evan ever bottomed in his life? It didn't seem likely, but now was not the time to be discussing sexual histories. The only thing that mattered was that Evan had told him he wanted this, and David was determined to give him what he wanted.

Slowly, he began sliding the finger in and out, applying more lube periodically, trying to get Evan accustomed to the feeling, trying to open him up gradually. When Evan began to soften, David took his cock in his mouth, coaxing him into a renewed arousal, but he knew it was in spite of the fingering rather than in any way because of it.

He was about to suggest calling it quits for the evening when Evan unexpectedly canted his hips and froze, his ass suspended just off the mattress. “Christ, what – oh, _Jesus _– ” he groaned, before driving himself down onto David's finger and rippling around him.

While David was still trying to absorb the fact that here was a gay man over thirty who had not fully experienced the joys of his prostate, Evan undulated under him, dislodging his cock from David's mouth. He gasped, “Gimme another one, I can take another one,” and David simply had no defense against that, none at all. Withdrawing his finger and fumbling for the slick, he managed to slop on another dollop of lube before introducing two fingers to Evan's body.

Evan took him more easily this time, almost eagerly, and now he was propped up on his elbows, looking down at what David was doing instead of lying passive and unresponsive. His gaze was avid, riveted to the rhythmic motion of David's arm. Experimentally, David twisted his fingers at the point of deepest penetration, and Evan jerked again as if shot, his thigh muscles twitching convulsively. David held himself still until Evan relaxed slightly, then drew back and did it again, and again, and again, until Evan was thrashing and panting under him.

“Need it – c'mon, c'mon – ” Evan grunted, pulling away and grabbing for a pillow while David ripped the condom package with shaking hands. As David prepared to roll the condom down his cock, Evan shoved the pillow up under his hips and hooked his legs around David's waist. David lost several seconds to contemplating the incredible sight of Evan offering himself, finally brought back to reality by the sound of his name. Evan was looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a smile that could be called fond.

“You want some help with that?” he asked, nodding at the condom still clutched in David's now-numb fingers.

“Perhaps that would be – ” Evan's smile was feral now as he sat up and took the condom from him “– the single most erotic thing I have ever seen,” he finished breathlessly, as he watched Evan pop the condom into his mouth and bend down over David's groin.

Evan rose with a smug grin, which David immediately felt compelled to kiss, hooking an arm around his neck and pulling him in tightly. Evan shuddered in his embrace, and something told David it was a good sort of shudder this time. Breaking the kiss, David pressed his cheek to Evan's and whispered, “I want to fuck you.”

“So c'mon and fuck me,” Evan growled. Pulling out of David's arms, he began to lie down again, but David had caught the brief flash of trepidation that Evan couldn't keep off his face.

“No, wait.” Evan paused and looked up at David, startled by the command. “I have an idea.” Urging Evan up again, he switched positions with him, moving to lie on his back on the bed. He then held out his hand palm up in an unmistakeable invitation.

David recognized the moment Evan understood, because his gaze turned white-hot before he took David's hand and straddled him. As he touched Evan, David was careful to keep his caresses as light as possible, allowing him the freedom to move as he pleased.

Evan reached over for the lube, then used it to liberally coat David's cock. Rising up on his knees, he paused for a moment, his thighs trembling under David's hands, before lowering himself slowly, taking David inside inch by inch.

David opened his mouth to ask if everything was all right, but the look on Evan's face stopped him. It wasn't pain, exactly, but it certainly wasn't comfortable. Tentatively, he brushed his fingertips over Evan's half-hard cock, receiving a gasp in return.

David's hand closed around him and he stroked experimentally. “All right?” he murmured.

Evan nodded jerkily. “Yeah, okay,” he breathed. “Keep doin' that, just like that.”

David was only too happy to comply, and Evan gradually settled until he was sitting on David's lap. For his part, David concentrated on breathing through his nose and controlling the overwhelming urge to flip Evan over and fuck him through the mattress. He'd never experienced such a possessive instinct; obviously, Evan brought it out in him, but Evan brought out a great deal in him he wasn't used to experiencing.

Evan blew out a long, slow breath, and then he was rising again; David felt the exquisite slide of Evan's body all around him and groaned. God, if he survived this, it would be a miracle.

“All right?” Evan asked, and David opened his eyes to see that sinful mouth curled at the corner.

“Only if you promise to keep doing that,” David answered.

Evan gazed down at him for a moment, then leaned forward slightly and began to impale himself again on David's cock.

“Promise,” he murmured, smile widening as he gripped David's wrists and pinned them to the mattress.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

“Cut,” Sam whispered. Everyone heard her, because it was so quiet on set you could have heard an ant fart.

There were a few moments of almost reverent silence, and then Lindsey straightened from her crouch, rising on wobbly legs. “Excuse me,” she said, setting the camera down on the prop table and hooking a thumb in the direction of the exit. “I'll be in my bunk.”

“You said it,” Teyla agreed breathlessly, turning to follow her.

Sam shrugged at the rest of the crew, then said, “Take – uh, thirty.” To a woman, every one of them hustled off, leaving the two men still lying on the bed in a tangled, sweaty heap. Sam was the last to leave; she paused just inside the door, her hand on the master light switch.

“Evan? David? You boys need anything?”

There was a short pause, then Evan's voice drifted across the set. “Nah, we're good.”

“Great,” she said, and then, in her most professional voice, she added, “And, uh, thank you.”

“You're very welcome,” David called out. Sam shook her head, then hit the switch.

Make that _two _million copies.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
When David emerged from his dressing room, he found Evan leaning against the corridor wall, his pose deceptively casual.

“Hey,” he said.

David resisted the urge to fiddle with his nonexistent tie. “Hey.”

Evan looked down at the floor for a moment, then looked up at him through his lashes, and David felt all the air leave his lungs. “So I figured if you're not busy tonight, you might want to – I don't know – go dancing or something later.”

“Dancing,” David parroted.

“Yeah. You dance, right?”

“Not very well, but I'd still like to go.” He paused. “Thank you.”

Evan smiled. “And before that we'll have to get something to eat. I know this great Italian place – you like Italian? I kind of got a craving for lasagna.”

David looked down to make sure he wasn't floating above the ground; he felt dizzy, lighter than air. “I love Italian.”

Evan's eyes twinkled. As David tried to find solid ground again, Evan shoved away from the wall and walked toward him, then cupped David's face in one hand and rasped as he leaned in, “Yeah. So do I.”  


**Author's Note:**

> First published April 2007.


End file.
